THE GATHERING

The next day saw a great opposing force to those of the evil seen in the West. A force Men, Elves, and Halflings, streamed over the pass wielding bows and steel, led by an elite company of mounted fighters, The Unrau Garten, clad in armor, covered with red tabards showing the wyvern-on-green. At the head of this great host stood three great men: Gundehar Kluggman, the Lord Protector of Rheulgard, mounted on a steed and clad in maille, as the Garten, but with a solid green tabard with his wyvern-on-green. The Sword of Stille Watchter hung at his side, a heraldic shield, and a visored helmet. To his left, Sir Felix Frygg, a errant knight recently sworn to Rhulad (and Avani), a tabard of solid red over his armor. His helmet hung at his belt, and camp followers still speak of his raven hair and green eyes. To Kluggman's right, Sir Naaman, the proud debonair of Rheulgard, clad in his leather armor, a close-woven turban to highlight his twirled moustache, his scimitars and buckler, Astride a fine Khinasi horse.

They were met at the mouth of the valley, surprised, by a clutch of strange wolf-riders, brawny, Vos men, barbarians! Lead by a smaller, helmeted rider, wearing a heraldic, spiked brigandine with a thick black gambeson beneath, and a large two bit dwarven battle axe strapped to the saddle. The Host halted and prepared for battle, and both Naaman and Felix unclasped their weapons and half-drew. To the surprise of all, the Lord-Protector raised his hand, halting the men. The vos leader reigned in the great beast not five feet from the generals, and threw back her great helm, from which fell her locks of pale white hair, steely grey eyes, and the unmistakable elf-like visage of the Tsara of Rhzlev revealed herself. She then spoke to the Lord-Protector;

"A strange sight to behold, such a host of men, elves, and hobbits on the march, what more do you need but a band of Vos riders? My men long for a good fight!"

Gundehar smiles at this, and laughs are heard from the company, "Tsara Esfir, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and welcome you to my host. I thank you for answering my great summons."

The band carved their way into the valley, along the road, stopping every few hours to await a scouting party, and look for signs of the lawgiver. A few days on the march, and a few pointers from The dedicated scouts who remained at their posts, united the two armies at long last. A simple tavern on the River Mueller before the crossing was the place. It is recorded as The River Grouse Inn. Before the drink was poured, the companies of Rheulgardian and Treucht rangers were making much merry on the road there. When the two forces of good met, fittingly so, the Golden Light was hovering above the host of Treucht. Here it was the men of both armies embraced like brothers. Men of the bay united, like the Brecht League of old.

The horses were taken from the lead of the host to be watered, and camps was staked. The companions filtered into the River Grouse, and found the common room tables pulled into a ramshackle wartable, where The Lawgiver, Hans was standing, clad in a suit of armor, with two swords sheathed at his hip, and a tabard of yellow and red, with a visored, conical helmet. Alongside him is a tall bronze-skinned fellow, wearing a long cloak and garb covered in gaudy patches and baubles. He has a stack of instrument cases and a lute he is tuning over the wartable, and Hans is rhythmically snapping along to the mindless strumming, while occasionally, absentmindedly, pointing at the map erratically, and barking an order at his bannermen.

Seeing the companions enter, the strange bard immediately approaches the company. Gundehar walks straight past him to the Wartable, and only Felix stops to speak with him. He introduced himself as Erhart Bodeker, a simple bard. Felix speaks to him briefly, mentioning a pig in a wig, and they both laugh, and walk out of the inn, towards the camp of soldiers.

"Hans it's a pleasure to see your beautiful piece of the great bay. We'll surely catch and throw this anshwegh into the lake." Kluggman loosens up.

"Well hullo and guh-reetings my friend, I was just enjoying that fine tune, and now I plot for war with many more allies! Look at our camp of heroes! And a fine woman of pale appearance!"

The Tsara sneers at this, "I bring my men for war and war alone Hans. Do not sleight this alliance, or I will make you pray for the Swordhawk's clemency."

END